


A Rock and a Hard Place

by Bre



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Canon Universe, F/M, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak Unresolved Sexual Tension, POV Oliver Queen, Season 2, Season/Series 02, Tension, UST, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, rated mature because oliver's thoughts are rather impure, where i put them in a ridiculous situation for the fun of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26840470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre/pseuds/Bre
Summary: Set between 2x06 and 2x07. Oliver helps Felicity reach some wiring in the foundry.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 95
Kudos: 349





	A Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> Anon Prompt - Hi Bre, I read your "[Talk to Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888871/chapters/32188839)" fic and LOVED it! I always wonder about similar situations from Oliver's POV for some of Felicity's S2 dresses - what his thoughts and fantasies of Felicity in her dresses. Do you think you will have the time to do S2 UST canon fics?
> 
> I am struggling, y'all. As some of you know, I got laid off earlier this year, which sucked. But it did lead to me completely losing my mind and totally rewriting Blood Hands. (And I am *this close* to finishing it.) But these last few days, in this hellfire of a world that we're living in? I can't concentrate to save my life because of *waves vaguely at everything* So I took a step back and did something else just to say I wrote.
> 
> This is a fun, slightly ridiculous situation completely designed for the UST of Season 2. (It might be a little heavy-handed, because I've got BH Brain.)
> 
> Enjoy!

_Russia was a mistake._

The thought rattled through his head, over and over, turning into a mantra he repeated until the words blurred into a meaningless stream of nonsense. He never should have taken her there. He never should have agreed to Isabel going. He should have found a way for just him and Diggle to get in, get Lyla, and get out. Because then things would still be normal.

Relatively speaking.

Things would at least be the way they had been. Before Russia. When things were just simple _ideas_ , whimsical what-ifs that went nowhere. But most importantly? When certain kinds of thoughts stayed in the darkest part of the night where they belonged.

When only he knew what he was thinking when he was in bed, alone, his hand slipping under the sheets as he thought about slipping his fingers underneath-

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut.

_Russia was a mistake._

“Aha!”

Felicity’s triumphant shout was muffled where her head was buried in the unfinished hole in the wall. 

Oliver kept his eyes shut, offering her a vague hum in response. But he did tighten his grip on the flaking sheet of drywall he held up for her in the cramped space they occupied. Boxes from before and after the Undertaking mixed with unused building material and old furniture left only the narrowest of passages to weave through.

_“It’s all structurally sound, but I ran out of the money you gave me when I decided to not only fix what the earthquake had done, but upgrade, and so we were left with a bit of a mess. A safe mess, but a mess.”_

That meant when she needed to check on some old wiring, she had to literally dig her way through to get to the spot she needed. The spot this time happened to be in a tiny alcove, and the hole she needed to get through happened to be covered with drywall, and the space happened to be so small that the drywall could only go _up_ to make room for her.

So here he was. Holding up drywall so she could get on her hands and knees and crouch down to reach deep inside the wall.

Oliver concentrated on the heavy drywall digging into his palms.

“Got it.”

His eyes opened of their own volition and he just barely stopped from groaning.

She was wearing that damn grey dress. He knew logically that there were at least two of them, because he’d seen one with red cutouts and one with yellow, but they were the _same damn dress_ and right now it was perfectly snug around her backside where she leaned over on the ground to see inside the wall. It was dark, but his eyes adjusted just fine to appreciate all of it in its glory. The dress wasn’t usually that tight, but the angle of her body stretched it taut and he could see the faint outline of what had to be a thong. The zipper cut down the center of it and he couldn’t stop from wondering how it would feel if he tugged it down and slipped his hands inside-

Oliver gritted his teeth and slammed his eyes shut.

_Russia was a mistake._

Something had changed and it was ruining everything. His stupidity with Isabel, the look on Felicity’s face when she realized, Isabel’s snide attitude. But all of that he could have handled. The worst part was when he’d tried to backtrack when they had gotten back to Starling City.

_“It didn’t mean anything.”_  


_“Well, I think you deserve better than her.”_

He didn’t. He really didn’t.

But, for a blip of a second, he had let himself wonder. 

And _want_.

It was supposed to be a second, a tiny moment of self-indulgence, but instead it had ripped the damn floodgates open, and now he _couldn’t stop_. Before she had been Felicity, but now she was _Felicity-_

“There we go.” Her voice became clearer as she inched out of the wall. His eyes popped back open and he nearly bit through his tongue as she pushed up off her knees. His palms tingled when her lush curves were _right there_ , so close, but then she was straightening with her little tools in-hand. And she was talking, he realized. “… I’ll have to reroute this because it’s not my best work, but it’s good for now.”

“So you’re done?” he asked gruffly.

“Yep,” she replied, all brightness and light and sweetness as she spun in the tight spot to face him. A bare inch separated them, and it was all he could think about as he fought to breathe. But then she smiled up at him and he softened. “Thank you for your help.”

“Anytime.”

“I’ll just…” She gestured behind him. “Go, so you can set that thing down.”

He smiled, and nodded, and she moved to slip past him.

Except there wasn’t enough room.

Felicity pushed her front against his side, and when that didn’t get her what she wanted, she tried to _wiggle past him_. Oliver nearly choked on his tongue as her soft lines rubbed up against him, his skin burning where her breasts smashed into him, her hand on his ribs for leverage, her legs damn near cradling him as she worked to get through.

But she couldn’t.

“Oh,” she breathed as the same realization hit her. Then she did the worst possible thing: she started wiggling even more. “I… I’m almost there, I just need a little more…”

The highly erotic slideshow of every single wet dream he’d had about her lit up his mind and he gasped for air. Oliver shuddered as a crash of heat washed over him. His jeans tightened, enough to make him curse, and he shook his head with a hard, “Felicity, stop.”

She froze.

Oliver swallowed hard, and forced his voice to even out. “You were sitting when I came in, so I had enough room to lift this up.”

“Right.” It came out in a tremulous breath he felt on his neck. The heat swamped him again, but more urgent this time, and he nearly ripped holes in the drywall because it was the only thing stopping him from leaning into her. “Well, let me just get out of here, and I’ll get back down there-”

The thought of her on her knees before him had him looking down to see the growing problem in his pants.

“No,” he blurted. “No, just… Stay there. Please.”

“Oh, okay.”

He quickly lowered the drywall. He didn’t realize how heavy it was until his elbows unlocked from the position he’d held them in, and he grunted, his muscles tightening to maintain it so it didn’t smash into the ground. It would have been fine, except Felicity was pushed up right against him, so close he felt her quick intake of air, then her hand flutter to his back as the other on his ribs slid up to his pec. 

Could she feel how hard his heart pounded?

Oliver bent over to set the drywall down and winced when his hip dug into her soft stomach.

It would be so easy to turn around and fit himself against her.

And very, very wrong.

Oliver straightened on a burst and tried to turn to give her room to get out, but the space was _tiny_ , and his shoulders were too broad. 

“You’re so big,” Felicity said, and it was Oliver’s turn to freeze as she caught herself, her eyes quickly shutting. “I don’t mean… I-I mean, you are big, like shoulders, and chest, and arms, and… and other things. Things I don’t know about! Obviously. I mean, I think I would remember that.”

Amazingly, her babble calmed him. 

Oliver chuckled, and she huffed at herself, rolling her eyes as she blushed.

Taking a quick breath, he let the dust and dampness in the air clear his head. The familiar lilt of her perfume wasn’t exactly helping, but it didn’t stop his mind from functioning properly again. 

Until he grabbed her and spun them so her back was to the drywall.

She squeaked, and whether it was from the abrupt move or from having her entire front plastered to his, he didn’t know. Nor did he suddenly not know how to let her go. In the grand scheme of things, it lasted barely a second, but it was a painfully long second, like every other one he’d been experiencing with her as of late. Ever since Russia. Ever since she had looked at him with such disappointment, but also sadness, with a look he wanted to do everything in his power to erase from her face.

A look that was nowhere to be seen right now.

Their eyes locked, the space growing ten times smaller around them. But instead of suffocating them, it felt like a buffer against the rest of the world. Her soft breaths danced over his lips. Her hands fluttered to his shoulders. When her fingers curled into his shirt, he felt a needy pull deep inside him start to take over as her eyes darkened, her pupils blowing wide… 

All the reasons he told himself this could never happen were suddenly far away.

But not gone.

Common sense walloped him so hard it hurt and he abruptly let her go.

“I’ll go out first.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Felicity nodded. “Right.”

He quickly backed out of the tiny space. Her hands hovered in the air, eyes wide, but the flush in her cheeks and the way her lips were parted foolishly caught his attention. He couldn’t help it. His eyes dropped to that damn grey dress once more, and he knew he wasn’t going to be sleeping soundly for a long while. 

Oliver spun around before he did something stupid as hell and left.

_Russia was a damn mistake._

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews literally feed the soul and muse.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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